Two black and grey forearm tattoos: a geometric cat face with bold linework on the left, and a dotwork fox head with a moon, stars and mountains on the right.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Geometric cat and dotwork fox on forearms

Geometric · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

Two forearm tattoos sit side by side against pale skin. The left shows a cat face built from angular outlined facets, with a dark patch across one eye, whiskers drawn as straight lines and solid black shading. The right shows a fox or wolf head silhouette filled with stippled dotwork, containing a pale moon, small stars and jagged mountains, with grey shading fading toward the lower edge.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

By the third winter after the grid failed, Mother Hask had stopped expecting the moon to rise over the Teeth, so when the striped cat came up the valley road with a lantern of white glass under one arm, nobody in Low Harrow believed her. The cat was called Quill. Her face was built of hard grey planes like a folded map, and one eye sat inside a black patch as if someone had painted over a mistake. She set the lantern on the well wall and asked for a saucer of milk and a fox.

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The fox was not hard to find. Old Tobiah had been leaving scraps at the edge of the scree for years, and the grey vixen came down to the wall with her ears flat, watching the lantern as though it owed her money. Quill explained in her clipped way that the salt men had carried the moon up the mountains to light their drills, hung it in the crags, and forgotten it. It had grown tired of the cold and wanted to come home. The vixen listened, then turned and trotted up toward the peaks without a word.

Three days later she returned with frost in her fur, carrying nothing, and led them up the path to a cleft where the salt engines had gone quiet. Inside, the moon sat in a cradle of rusted iron, pale and pitted, and when Tobiah touched it the surface was cool as a stream stone. Quill lifted it onto her back, and the vixen went ahead to clear the ice. They carried it down through the night.

At dawn they hung the moon above the well, and the Teeth came back into view with every edge sharp. Tobiah kept the saucer full for the vixen ever after, and on clear nights he would look up and see her silhouette on the ridge, stars caught in her coat.

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